Regent

Regent (pronounced ree-juhnt)

(1) A person who exercises the ruling power in a kingdom during the minority, absence, or disability of the sovereign.

(2) A ruler or governor (obsolete).

(3) In certain schools and colleges in Scotland, the US and Canada, a member of the governing board of a state university or a state educational system.

(4) A university officer who exercises general supervision over the conduct and welfare of the students (now rare); a senior teacher or administrator in certain universities (rare, mostly obsolete).

(5) In certain Catholic universities, a member of the religious order who is associated in the administration of a school or college with a layperson who is its dean or director.

1375-1400: From the Anglo-Norman regent (a ruler), from the adjective regent (ruling, governing (later "exercising vicarious authority")), from the Middle French, from the Old French, from the Medieval  Latin regentem from regēns (ruling; ruler, governor, prince), present participle of regō (I govern, I steer), noun use of present participle of regere (to rule, direct).  The ultimate root was the primitive Indo-European reg- (move in a straight line) derivatives of this carrying the sense “to direct in a straight line" thus eventually the meaning "to lead, rule".  The most familiar meaning "one who rules during the minority or absence of a sovereign" emerged in the early fifteenth century as an alternative to king, not implying legitimacy or permanence of rule; the Latin for this was interrex (plural interreges).  The sense "university faculty member" is attested from late fourteenth century and preserves the original meaning.  When used in any of its adjectival forms, the sense is usually postpositive.

The last King of Italy

Umberto II while Prince of Piedmont, a 1928 portrait by Anglo-Hungarian painter Philip Philip Alexius László de Lombos (1869–1937 and known professionally as Philip de László).  Note the ruffled collar and bubble pantaloons.

Umberto Nicola Tommaso Giovanni Maria di Savoia (1904–1983) was the last king of Italy, his reign as Umberto II lasting but thirty-four days during May-June 1946; Italians nicknamed him the Re di Maggio (May king) although some better-informed Romans preferred regina di maggio (May queen).  At the instigation of the US and British political representatives of the allied military authorities, in April 1944 he was appointed regent because it was clear popular support for Victor Emmanuel III (1869-1947; King of Italy 1900-1946) had collapsed.  Despite Victor Emmanuel’s reputation suffering by association, his relationship with the fascists had often been uneasy and, seeking means to blackmail the royal house, Mussolini’s spies compiled a dossier (reputably several inches thick), detailing the ways of his son’s private life.  Then styled Prince of Piedmont, the secret police discovered Umberto was a sincere and committed Roman Catholic but one unable to resist his "satanic homosexual urges” and his biographer agreed, noting the prince was "forever rushing between chapel and brothel, confessional and steam bath" often spending hours “praying for divine forgiveness.”  After a referendum abolished the monarchy, Umberto II lived his remaining 37 years in exile, never again setting foot on Italian soil.  His turbulent marriage to Princess Marie-José of Belgium (1906-2001) produced four children but historians consider it quite possible none of them were his.

Lindsay Lohan at the Mr Pink Ginseng Drink Launch Party, Regent Beverly Wilshire Hotel, Beverly Hills, California, 11 October 2012.

Viceroy

Viceroy (pronounced vahys-roi)

(1) A person appointed to rule a country or province as the deputy of the sovereign and exercising the powers of the sovereign.

(2) A brightly marked American butterfly (Limenitis archippus), closely mimicking the monarch butterfly in coloration but slightly smaller, hence the analogy with a sovereign and their representative.

1515–1525: From the Middle French, the construct being vice- + roy.  Vice was from the Old French vice (deputy), from the Latin vice (in place of), an ablative form of vicis.  In English (and other languages) the vice prefix was used to indicate an office in a subordinate position including air vice-marshal, vice-admiral, vice-captain, vice-chair, vice-chairman, vice-chancellor, vice-consul, vice-director, vice president, vice-president, vice-regent & vice-principal.  Roy was from the Middle English roy & roye, from the Old French roi (king), from the Latin rēgem, accusative of rēx (king) and related to regere (to keep straight, guide, lead, rule), from the primitive Indo-European root reg- (move in a straight line) with derivatives meaning “to direct in a straight line" thus the notion of "to lead, rule".  It was a doublet of loa, rajah, Rex, rex and rich.  The noun plurals was roys.  The wife of a viceroy was a vicereine, the word also used for female viceroys of whom there have been a few.  The American butterfly was named in 1881.  Viceroy and viceroy are nouns and viceregal is a noun and adjective; the noun plural is viceroys.

The noun viceregent (the official administrative deputy of a regent) attracted the attention of critics because it was so frequently confused with vicegerent (the official administrative deputy of a ruler, head of state, or church official).  Despite the perceived grandiosity of vicegerent, gained from association with offices such as the Pope as Vicar of Christ on Earth or the regent of a sovereign state, it’s merely generally descriptive of one person substituting for another and can be as well-applied to the shop assistant minding the store while the grocer has lunch.  The area of regency can be a linguistic tangle because a regent is a particular kind of viceregent and there was a time when viceregent was used instead of the correct vicegerent and was sometimes used pleonastically for regent.  The grammar Nazis never liked this and attributed the frequency of occurrence to the preference of viceregal rather than vicereoyal as the adjective of viceroy.

Under the Raj, under the pith helmets: King George V, Emperor of India with Lord Hardinge, Viceroy of India, Government House, Calcutta 1911.

In the rather haphazard way British rule in India evolved, the office of Governor-General of India was created by the Charter Act of 1833 and in an early example of the public-private partnership (PPP), the post was essentially administrative and was both appointed by and reported to the directors of the East India Company, functioning also as an informal conduit between the company and government.  The system lasted until 1858 when, in reaction to the Indian Mutiny (1857), the parliament passed the Government of India Act, creating the role of Viceroy (wholly assuming the office of Governor General), the new office having both executive and diplomatic authority and reporting (through the newly-established India Office) to the British Crown.  The viceroy was appointed by the sovereign on the advice of the parliament (ie the prime-minister) and it is this structure which is remembered as the British Raj (from the Hindi rāj (state, nation, empire, realm etc), the rule of the British Crown on the subcontinent although the maps of empire which covered the whole region as pink to indicate control were at least a bit misleading.

Viceroy butterfly.

The best-known viceroys were probably those who headed the executive government of India under the Raj although other less conspicuous appointments were also made including to Ireland when the whole island was a constituent part of United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland (1801-1922).  As a general principle (and there were exceptions), in British constitutional law, the Dominions and colonies that were held in the name of the parliament of Great Britain were administered by Governors-General while colonies held in the name of the British Crown were governed by viceroys.  Between 1858-1947, there were twenty viceroys of India including some notable names in British politics such as Lord Lansdowne (1888–1894) who introduced the Indian Councils Act and raised the age of consent for girls from ten to twelve, Lord Curzon (1899–1905) who introduced the Indian Universities Act and presided over the partition of Bengal, Lord Hardinge (1910-1916) who was in office during the Mesopotamian Campaign, Lord Irwin (1926–1931) (better known as Lord Halifax) who summoned the first round table conference and Lord Mountbatten (1947), the last Viceroy of India who, reflecting the change in constitutional status upon independence, was between 1947-1948 briefly the new nation's first Governor-General.  He was also the second-last, the office abolished in 1950 when the Republic of India was proclaimed.

Lindsay Lohan’s NFT for Lullaby with viceroy butterflies.

In 2021, it was announced Lindsay Lohan's non-fungible token (NFT) electronic music single Lullaby had sold for 1,000,001 in Tron (TRX) cryptocurrency (US$85,484.09).   Lullaby featured a vocal track over a beat produced by Manuel Riva and was the first NFT by a woman to be sold on #fansForever, a marketplace created for dealing in celebrity NFTs.  The graphics of the NFT Tron had a viceroy butterfly flapping its wings in unison with Ms Lohan’s eyelids to the beat of Lullaby.  Because of the underlying robustness, the blockchain and the NFT concept has an assured future for many purposes but to date the performance of celebrity items as stores of value has been patchy.

1936 Rolls-Royce Phantom III (7.7 litre (447 cubic inch) V12; chassis 3AZ47, engine Z24B, body 8594 in style 6419) by Hooper, built for the Marquess of Linlithgow (1887-1952) who served as Viceroy of India (1936-1944), seen in its original configuration with a chauffeur (left) and as re-bodied during 1952-1953 (right).  In the centre is a British plumed helmet, circa 1920, this one with a skull in gilt metal, mounted with unusually elaborate gilt ornamentation including helmet-plate (itself mounted with a white metal hobnail star bearing gilt Royal Arms), ornate gilt chins-scales with claw ends and an untypically extravagant white swan's feather plume, notably longer than regulation length.  It was used by the Honourable Corps of Gentlemen-at Arms, a body formed in 1539 and staffed by former army officers as the “nearest guard” to the sovereign. The helmet is based on the “Albert” pattern for Household Cavalry, a style in use for some 150 years.

Viceroys of India were always rather exalted creatures, their status reflecting India’s allure as the glittering prize of the empire and upon recall to London, were usually raised to (or in) the peerage as marquesses while a retiring prime-minister might expect at most an earldom, one notch down.  Their special needs (and some were quite needy) in office also had to be accommodated, an example of which is Lord Linlithgow’s 1937 Rolls-Royce Phantom III, built with a capacity for seven passengers (although no luggage which was always carried separately).  The coachwork by Hooper was most unusual, the engine’s side-panels being 1½ inches taller than standard, a variation required to somewhat balance the very tall passenger compartment, the dimensions of which were dictated by the viceroy’s height of 6’ 7” (2.0 m), the plumed hats of his role elongating things further.  Such high-roof-lines were not uncommon on state limousines and have been seen on Mercedes-Benz built for the Holy See and the Daimlers & Rolls-Royces in the British Royal Mews.  Delivered in dark blue with orange picking out lines and coronets on the rear doors, the interior was trimmed in dark blue leather with two sets of loose beige covers, the woodwork in solid figured walnut rather than veneer.  Signed-off 21 July 1936 and shipped to Bombay (now Mubai) on the SS Bhutan on 24 July, Hooper’s invoice to the India Office listed the price of the chassis at Stg£1405, the coachwork at Stg£725 and a total cost of Stg£2130.

After the Raj, the car passed into private hands and in 1952 was returned to the Hooper works in Westminster for re-modeling, the most obvious aspects of which were the lowering of the roof-line and a re-finishing in grey.  The high cowl (scuttle) and hood (bonnet) line were however retained so the re-configuration actually replaced one discontinuity with another but the changes certainly made it an interesting period piece and its now one of three Phantom IIIs in the collection assembled by Pranlal Bhogilal (1937-2011), displayed in his Auto World Vintage Car Museum in Kathwada, on the outskirts of Ahmedabad.

Inquire & Enquire

Inquire (pronounced in-kwahyuhr)

(1) To seek information by questioning; to ask.

(2) To make an investigation (usually followed by into).

(3) To seek (obsolete).

(4) To question (a person) (obsolete).

1250–1300: From the Middle English enqueren & anqueren (to ask (a question), ask about, ask for (specific information); learn or find out by asking, seek information or knowledge; to conduct a legal or official investigation (into an alleged offense)), from the Latin inquīrere (to seek for), replacing the Middle English enqueren, from the Old French enquerre, also from Latin.  The construct in Latin was from in- (into) + quaerere (to seek).  The prefix -in is quirky because it can act either to negate or intensify.  The general rule is that when prepended to a noun or adjective, it reinforces the quality signified and when prepended to an adjective, it negates the meaning, the latter mostly in words borrowed from French.  The Latin prefix in- was from the Proto-Italic en-, from the primitive Indo-European n̥- (not), the zero-grade form of the negative particle ne (not) and was akin to ne-, nē & nī.  In Modern English it is from the Middle English in-, from Old English in- (in, into), from the Proto-Germanic in, from the primitive Indo-European en.  Inquiry & inquirer are nouns, inquiring is a noun, verb & adjective, inquires is a verb, inquirable & inquisitive are adjective and inquiringly is an adverb; the noun plural is inquiries.  The verb inquireth is listed by most as archaic and forms such as reinquired & reinquiring have been coined as needed.

So the in- in inquire is not related to in- (not), also a common prefix in Latin and this created a tradition of confusion which persists to this day.  In Ancient Rome, impressus could mean "pressed" or "unpressed; inaudire meant "to hear" but inauditus meant "unheard of; invocatus was "uncalled, uninvited," but invocare was "to call, appeal to".  In Late Latin investigabilis could mean "that may be searched into" or "that cannot be searched into”.  English picked up the confusion and it’s not merely a linguistic quirk because mixing up the meaning of inflammable could have ghastly consequences.  Fortunately, some of the duplicity has died out: Implume, noted from the 1610s meant "to feather," but implumed (from a decade or more earlier meant "unfeathered".  Impliable could be held to mean "capable of being implied" (1865) or "inflexible" (1734).  Impartible in the seventeenth century simultaneously could mean "incapable of being divided" or "capable of being imparted" and, surprisingly, impassionate can mean "free from passion" or "strongly stirred by passion" (used wrongly that certainly could have inintended consequences).  The adjective inanimate was generally understood to indicate "lifeless" but John Donne (1572–1631), when using inanimate as a verb meant "infuse with life or vigor." Irruption is "a breaking in" but irruptible is "unbreakable".

In addition to improve "use to one's profit", Middle English also had the fifteenth century verb improve meaning "to disprove".  To inculpate is "to accuse," but inculpable means "not culpable, free from blame".  Infestive (a creation of the 1560s, from infest) originally meant "troublesome, annoying" but by the 1620s meant "not festive".  Bafflingly, in Middle English, inflexible could mean both "incapable of being bent" or "capable of being swayed or moved".  During the seventeenth century, informed could mean "current in information" formed, animated" or "unformed, formless", an unhelpful situation the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) described as “an awkward use".  Just a bizarre was that in the mid-sixteenth century inhabited meant "dwelt in" yet within half-a-century was being used to describe "uninhabited".  Some dictionaries insist the adjectives unenquired & unenquiring really exist but there’s scant evidence of use.  A noted derivation with some history is inquisitor.  Synonyms and words with a similar sense include examine, inspect, interrogate, investigate, analyze, catechize, explore, grill, hit, knock, probe, check, prospect, pry, query, question, roast, scrutinize, search, seek & sift.

Enquire (pronounced en-kwahyuhr)

A variant form of inquire

Circa 1300: From the Middle English enqueren & anqueren, (to ask (a question), to ask about, to ask for (specific information); learn or find out by asking, seek information or knowledge; to conduct a legal or official investigation (into an alleged offense)), from the Old French enquerre (to ask, inquire about) (which persists in Modern French as enquérir) and directly from the Medieval Latin inquīrere (to seek for).  As long ago as the fourteenth century the spelling of the English word was changed following the Latin model, but, in the annoying way that happens sometimes in English, the half-Latinized enquire persists and some people have even invented “rules” about when it should be used instead of inquire.   Sensibly, the Americans ignore these suggestions and use inquire for all purposes.  In Old French the Latin in- often became en- and such was the influence on Middle English that the form spread and although English developed a strong tendency to revert to the Latin in-, this wasn’t universal, thus pairs such as enquire/inquire which is why there must always be some sympathy for those learning the language.  There was a native form, which in West Saxon usually appeared as on- (as in the Old English onliehtan (to enlighten)) and some of those verbs survived into Middle English (such as inwrite (to inscribe)) but all are said now to be long extinct.

Enquire or inquire?

Lindsay Lohan says the spelling is "inquiry" so that must be right.

The English word was re-spelled as early as the fourteenth century on the Latin model but the half-Latinized "enquire" has never wholly gone away.  Outside of North America, it's not unknown to come across documents where "inquire" & "enquire" both appear, not in tribute to a particular "rule" of use but just because it hasn't been noticed; it's probably most associated with documents which are partially the product of chunks of texts being "cut and paste".  In the US, where the enquire vs inquire "problem" doesn’t exist because inquire is universal, this must seem a strange and pointless squabble because hearing a sentence like "She enquired when the Court of Inquiry was to hold its hearings" would unambiguously be understood and if written down, there could be no confusion if the spelling forms were to appear in either order.  So,  some hold it would be a fine idea if the rest of the English-speaking world followed the sensible lead of the Americans and stuck to "inquire" but history suggests that’s not going to happen and some suggestions for a convention of use have been offered:

(1) Enquire & enquiry are "formal" words to convey the sense of "ask" whereas inquire & inquiry are used to describe some structured form of investigation (such as a "Court of Inquiry").

(2) Enquire is to be used in informal writing and inquire in formal text.

Neither of those suggestions seem to make as much sense as adopting the US spelling and probably just adds a needless layer to a simple word; enquire and inquire mean the same thing: to ask, to seek information, or to investigate. One is therefore unnecessary and enquire should be retired, simply on the basis the Americans already have and there’s lots of them.  Those who resist should follow the one golden rule which is consistency: whatever convention of use is adopted, exclusively it should be used. 

The ultimate court of inquiry, the Spanish Inquisition and the DDF

The Spanish Inquisition, conducting their inquiries.

The Tribunal del Santo Oficio de la Inquisición (Tribunal of the Holy Office of the Inquisition), known famously as the Inquisición española (Spanish Inquisition) was created in 1478 by the Roman Catholic Monarchs, King Ferdinand II (1452–1516; king of Aragon 1479-1516, king of Castile 1475-1504 (as Ferdinand V)) and Queen Isabella I (1451–1504; queen of Castile 1474-1504, queen of Aragon 1479-1504), its remit the enforcement of orthodox Church doctrine in their kingdoms.  Ostensibly established to combat heresy in Spain (though eventually its remit extended throughout the Spanish Empire), the real purpose was to consolidate the power of the monarchy of the newly unified Spanish kingdom.  Its methods were famously brutish and although many records were lost, it's thought close to two hundred-thousand individuals came to the attention of the Inquisition and as many as five-thousand may have been killed; during the tenure of Castilian Dominican friar Tomás de Torquemada (1420–1498), the first grand inquisitor, it's believed some two-thousand were burned at the stake.  Suppressed first by Joseph-Napoléon Bonaparte (1768–1844; king of Naples (1806–1808) and king of Spain (1808–1813)) in 1808, it was restored by Ferdinand VII (1784–1833; king of Spain 1808 & 1813-1830) in 1814, suppressed in 1820, and restored in 1823.  It was finally abolished in 1834 by the Spanish queen regent María Cristina de Borbón (Maria Christina of the Two Sicilies 1806–1878; queen consort of Spain from 1829-1833 and regent of the Kingdom 1833-1840).  Historians have noted that although the Spanish Inquisition didn't last into the twentieth century, there were more than echoes of its methods & techniques witnessed (on both sides) during the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939).  

Rome certainly understood the need to enforce doctrine and punish heretics but they wanted control of the processes, aware even then some of the excesses were proving to be counter-productive and the imperative was to create a body under the direct jurisdiction of the Holy See.  Formed in 1542, was emerged was an institution which in recent years has had a few instances of what in commerce (and increasingly by governments too) is called "re-branding".  Originally named the Supreme Sacred Congregation of the Roman and Universal Inquisition, between 1908-1965 it was known as the Supreme Sacred Congregation of the Holy Office before becoming Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), its best-known prefect (head) being the the German Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (1927–2022) who, after serving as Chief Inquisitor between 1982-2005) was elected pope as Benedict XVI, serving until his unusual (though not unprecedented) resignation in 2013 when he decided to be styled pope emeritus, living in a kind of papal granny flat in the Vatican until his death.  In 2022, the institution was re-named the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith (DDF) and despite it all, many continue to refer to it as "The Holy Office" (in public) or "The Inquisition" (in private).  There are now (even when under Cardinal Ratzinger as far as in known) no more torture chambers or burnings at the stake but the DDF remains a significant factional player in curia politics although Vatican watchers have detected a grudging softening in the DDF's expressions of doctrinal rigidity since the election of Pope Francis (b 1936; pope since 2013). 

Brobdingnagian

Brobdingnagian (pronounced brob-ding-nag-ee-uhn)

(1) Of huge size; gigantic; tremendous.

(2) Larger than typical or expected.

(3) In medicine (psychiatry & clinical ophthalmology), as the noun “brobdingnagian vision”, a hallucination or visual disorder in which objects appear larger or nearer than they are (macropsia).  The companion (antonym) condition is “lilliputian vision”, a hallucination or visual disorder in which objects appear smaller or more distant than they are (micropsia).

(4) In mycology, of the brobdingnagia, a genus of fungi in the family Phyllachoraceae.

(5) Of or pertaining to the fictional land of Brobdingnag.

(5) An inhabitant or native of the fictional land of Brobdingnag.

1728 (in more frequent use by mid-century): An adjective to convey the sense of “enormous in size, huge, immense, gigantic etc, derived from the noun Brobdingnag (the land of the giants) the second of the exotic lands visited by the protagonist Lemuel Gulliver in Gulliver’s Travels (1726 and titled Travels into several remote nations of the world for the first edition), written in the style of contemporary “travel guides” by the Anglo-Irish author & satirist Jonathan Swift (1667–1745).  The construct was Brobdingnag +‎ -ian.  The suffix -ian was a euphonic variant of –an & -n, from the Middle English -an, (regularly -ain, -ein & -en), from the Old French –ain & -ein (or before i, -en), the Modern French forms being –ain & -en (feminine -aine, -enne), from the Latin -iānus (the alternative forms were -ānus, -ēnus, -īnus & -ūnus), which formed adjectives of belonging or origin from a noun, being -nus (cognate with the Ancient Greek -νος (-nos)), preceded by a vowel, from the primitive Indo-European -nós.  It was cognate with the English -en.  Brobdingnagian is a noun & adjective; the noun plural is Brobdingnagians (initial upper case if used of the inhabitants or natives of the fictional land of Brobdingnag but not for other purposes (such as untypically large cosmic objects)).  To distinguish between big stuff, the comparative is “more brobdingnagian” and the superlative “most brobdingnagian”.

In constructing the name Brobdingnag for his fictional land of giants, Swift used a technique more subtle than some authors who use more obvious charactonyms.  In literature, a charactonym is a name given to a character that suggests something about their personality, behavior, or role in the story; these names almost always have some literal or symbolic meaning aligning with or hinting at the character’s traits and examples include:

Alfred Doolittle (lazy and opportunistic) in George Bernard Shaw’s (GBS; 1856-1950) Pygmalion (1913).

Miss Honey (sweet & gentle) in Roald Dahl’s (1916–1990) Matilda (1988) and Veruca Salt (harsh and unpleasant) in his Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (1964).

Mr Bumble (noted for his bumbling inept incompetence) in Charles Dickens’ (1812–1870) Oliver Twist (1837).

Willy Loman (of low social status and beset with feelings of inadequacy) in Arthur Miller’s (1915–2005) Death of a Salesman (1949).

The use of blatant charactonyms is not always an example of linguistic brutishness and it’s often used in children's literarure or when it’s demanded by the rhythm of text or plat.  There are also “reverse charactonyms” when the traits of a characteristic become famously (or infamously) emblematic of something such as Shylock in William Shakespeare’s (1564–1616) The Merchant of Venice (1598) or Ebenezer Scrooge in Dickens A Christmas Carol (1843).

A brobdingnagian on the beach; a Lindsay Lohan meme.  Although a Swiftian meme, the use of that term will now probably be more suggestive of a later Swift, certainly to Swifties (the devotees of the singer Taylor Swift (b 1989)).

As well as the meanings of words, Swift liked to use the sounds of language in fashioning fictional names which were both plausible and in some way suggestive of the association he wanted to summon.  Structurally, what he appears to have done is combine arbitrary syllables to create a word sounding foreign and exotic while still being pronounceable by the English-speaking audience for which he wrote; the technique is harder to master than it sounds although with modern generative AI, presumably it’s become easier.  As a literary trick, Brobdingnag works because of the elements in the construction (1) the multisyllabic length and (2) the use of “harsh” consonants (notably the “b” & “g” which lend a sense of bulk and largeness, appropriate for the “land of the giants”.  The other exotic land in Gulliver’s Travels was Lilliput, the place where the people are tiny.  Just as he intended Brobdingnag to invoke thoughts of something (or someone) clumsy and heavy, Lilliput and Lilliputian were meant to suggest “small, delicate”.

Map of Brobdingnag from the 1726 edition of Travels into several remote nations of the world (the original title of Gulliver's Travels).

Although since Swift, the adjective brobdingnagian has never gone away, it’s length and “unnatural” (for English) spelling has meant it’s only ever been a “niche” word”, used as a literary device and astronomers like it when writing of stars, galaxies, black holes and such which are of such dimensions that miles or kilometres are not c convenient measure, demanding instead terms like “light years” (the distance in which light travels in one Earth year” or “parsecs” (a unit of astronomical length, based on the distance from Earth at which a star would have a parallax of one second of arc which is equivalent to 206,265 times the distance from the earth to the sun or 3.26 light-years.  Its lineal equivalent is about 19.1 trillion miles (30.8 trillion km)).

The king of Brobdingnag and Gulliver, cartoon by James Gillray (1756-1815), published in London 10 February 1804 during the era of the Napoleonic Wars (1803-1815).  British Cartoon Prints Collection, Library of Congress, Washington DC.

The work depicts the king of Brobdingnag (George III (1738–1820; King of Great Britain and Ireland 1760-1820)) staring intently at a tank in which is sailing Gulliver (Napoleon Bonaparte (1769–1821; leader of the French Republic 1799-1804 & Emperor of the French from 1804-1814 & 1815).  Lord Salisbury (1748–1823) stands behind the king.  It was a time when Napoleon was planning to invade England, his Grande Armée transported in “flat-bottomed boats” which were a sort of early landing craft, a design which would emerge in specialized forks for various purposes (troops, tanks etc) during World War II (1939-1945).  It wasn’t until the Royal Navy prevailed in the Battle of Trafalgar (21 October 1805) that the threat of invasion was ended.  At the time of the cartoon’s publication, George III had for some years already been displaying signs of mental instability (thought now to be consistent with bipolar disorder (the old manic depression)) although it would be almost a decade before his condition deteriorated to such an extent a regent was appointed.

Brobdingnagian’s more familiar role is in literature where it depends for effect on rarity; twice in the one book is one too many  Tellingly (and unsurprisingly given the inherent clumsiness), it’s rare in poetry although some have made the effort, possibly just to prove it can be done, one anonymous poet leaving us The Awful Fate of Mr. Foster, believed to be a parody of the poetic style of William Makepeace Thackeray (1811–1863) “Brobdingnagian” interpolated possibly because Thackeray was wrote some acerbic critiques of Swift’s work:

He never more will rise again, or open those kind eyes again,
He lies beneath the sod;
Beneath the tall Brobdingnagian tomb, the popular concernment's doom,
Of an enormous god!

Sherry

Sherry (pronounced sher-ee)

(1) A fortified, amber-colored wine, originally from the Jerez region of southern Spain or any of various similar wines made elsewhere; usually drunk as an apéritif.  Technically, a white wine.

(2) A female given name, a form of Charlotte.

1590-1600: A (mistaken singular) back formation from the earlier sherris (1530s), from the Spanish (vino de) Xeres ((wine from) Xeres).  Xeres is now modern-day Jerez (Roman (urbs) Caesaris) in Spain, near the port of Cadiz, where the wine was made.  The Official name is Jerez-Xérès-Sherry, one of Spain's wine regions, a Denominación de Origen Protegida (DOP).  The word sherry is an anglicisation of Xérès (Jerez) and the drink was previously known as sack, from the Spanish saca (extraction) from the solera.  In EU law, sherry has protected designation of origin status, and under Spanish law, to be so labelled, the product must be produced in the Sherry Triangle, an area in the province of Cádiz between Jerez de la Frontera, Sanlúcar de Barrameda, and El Puerto de Santa María.  In 1933 the Jerez denominación de origen was the first Spanish denominación officially thus recognized, named D.O. Jerez-Xeres-Sherry and sharing the same governing council as D.O. Manzanilla Sanlúcar de Barrameda.

The name "sherry" continues to be used by US producers where, to conform to domestic legislation, it must be labeled with a region of origin such as Oregon Sherry but can’t be sold in the EU because of their protected status laws.  Both Canadian and Australian winemakers now use the term Apera instead of Sherry, although customers seem still to favor the original.

The Sherry Party

For the upper-middle-class and beyond, sherry parties were a fixture of late-Victorian and Edwardian social life but the dislocations of the First World War seemed to render them extinct. It turned out however to be a postponement and sherry parties were revived, the height of their popularity being enjoyed during the 1930s until the Second World War succeeded where the first had failed.

For Sherry and Cocktail Parties, trade literature by Fortnum and Mason, Regent Street, Piccadilly, London, circa 1936.  The luxury department store, Fortnum & Mason, used the services of the Stuart Advertising Agency, which employed designers to produce witty and informative catalogues and the decorative art is illustrative of British commercial art in this period.

For the women who tended to be hostess and organizer, there were advantages compared with the tamer tea party.  Sherry glasses took less space than cups of tea, with all the associated paraphernalia of spoons, milk and sugar and, it being almost impossible to eat and drink while balancing a cup and saucer and conveying cake to the mouth, the tea party demanded tables and chairs.  The sherry glass and finger-food was easier for while one must sit for tea, one can stand for sherry so twice the number of guests could be asked.  Sherry parties indeed needed to be tightly packed affairs, the mix of social intimacy and alcohol encouraging mingling.  They also brought more men, tea holding little attraction for many.  The traditional timing between six and eight suited the male lifestyle of the time and they were doubtless more attracted to women drinking sherry than women drinking tea.

Novelist Laura, Lady Troubridge (1867–1946), who in 1935 published what became the standard English work on the topic, Etiquette and Entertaining: to help you on your social way, devoted an entire chapter to the sherry party.  She espoused an informal approach as both cheap and chic, suggesting guests be invited by telephone or with “Sherry, six to eight” written on a visiting card and popped in an envelope.   She recommended no more than two-dozen guests, half a dozen bottles of sherry, a couple of heavy cut-glass decanters and some plates of “dry and biscuity” eats: cheese straws, oat biscuits, cubes of cheddar.  This, she said, was enough to supply the makings of a “…jolly kind of party, with plenty of cigarettes and talk that will probably last until half past seven or eight.”

Defenestration

Defenestration (pronounced dee-fen-uh-strey-shuhn)

(1) The act of throwing a person out of a window.

(2) In casual, often humorous use, to throw anything out of a window.

(3) A sardonic term in the business of politics which refers to an act which deposes a leader).

(4) In nerd humor, the act of removing the Microsoft Windows operating system from a computer in order to install an alternative.

1618: From New Latin dēfenestrātiō, the construct being dē (from; out) + fenestra (window) + -atio (the suffix indicating an action or process).  It was borrowed also by the Middle French défenestrer (which persists in Modern French) & défenestration.  The German form is Fenstersturz; the verb defenestrate formed later.  The related forms are defenestrate (1915) & defenestrated (1620).  Derived terms (which seem only ever used sardonically) include autodefenestration (the act of hurling oneself from a window), dedefenestration (the act of hurling someone back through the window from which recently they were defenestrationed and redefenestration (hurling someone from a window for a second time, possibly just after their dedefenestration).  Use of these coinings is obviously limited.

The de- prefix was from the Latin dē-, from the preposition dē (of; from)  It was used in the sense of “reversal, undoing, removing”; the similar prefix in Old English was æf-.  The –ation suffix is from the Middle English –acioun & -acion, from the Old French acion & -ation, from the Latin -ātiō, an alternative form of -tiō (from which Modern English gained -tion).  It was used variously to create the forms describing (1) an action or process, (2) the result of an action or process or (3) a state or quality.  Fenestra is of unknown origin.  Some etymologists link fenestra with the Greek verb phainein (to show) while others suggest an Etruscan borrowing, based on the suffix -(s)tra, as in the Latin loan-words aplustre (the carved stern of a ship with its ornaments), genista (the plant broom) or lanista (trainer of gladiators).  Fenestration dates from 1870 in the anatomical sense, a noun of action from the Latin fenestrare, from fenestra (window, opening for light).  The now rare but once familiar meaning "arrangement of windows" dates from 1846 and described a certain design element in architecture.  The related form is fenestrated.

Second Defenestration of Prague (circa 1618), woodcut by Matthäus Merian der Ältere (1593–1650).

Although it was already known in the Middle French, defenestrate entered English to lament (or celebrate, depending on one’s view of such things) the Defenestration of Prague in 1618, when Two Roman Catholic regents of Ferdinand II, representing the Holy Roman Emperor in the Bohemian national assembly, were tossed from a third floor window of Hradshin Castle by Protestant radicals who accused them of suppressing their rights.  All three survived, landing either in a moat or rubbish heap defending on one’s choice of history book and thus began the Thirty Years’ War.  The artist called his painting the "Second Defenestration" because he was one of the school which attaches no significance to the 1438 event most historians now regard as the second of three.

The defenestration of 1618 that triggered the Thirty Years’ War wasn’t the first, indeed it was at the time said it had been done in "…good Bohemian style" by those who recalled earlier defenestrations, although, in fairness, the practice wasn’t exclusively Bohemian, noted in the Bible and not uncommon in Medieval and early modern times, lynching and mob violence a cross-cultural political language for centuries.  The first governmental defenestration occurred in 1419, second in 1483 and the third in 1618, although the term "Defenestration of Prague" is applied exclusively to the last.  The first and last are remembered because they trigged long wars of religion in Bohemia and beyond, the Hussite Wars (1419-1435) associated with the first and the Thirty Years’ War (1618-1648) with the Third.  The neglected second ushered in the religious peace of Kutná Hora which lasted decades, clearly not something to remember.  The 1618 event is the third defenestration of Prague).

The word has become popular as a vivid descriptor of political back-stabbing and is best understood sequentially, the churn-rate of recent Australian prime-ministers a good example: (1) Julia Gillard (b 1961) defenestrated Kevin Rudd (b 1957), (2) Kevin Rudd defenestrated Julia Gillard, (3) Malcolm Turnbull (b 1954) defenestrated Tony Abbott (b 1957), (4) Peter Dutton (b 1970) defenestrated Malcolm Turnbull (although that didn’t work out quite as planned, Mr Dutton turning out to be the hapless proxy for Scott Morrison (b 1968)).  Given the recent history it's surprising no one has bother to coin the adjective defenestrative to describe Australian politics although given it's likely there are more defenestrations will be to come, that may yet happen.  Mr Dutton has never denied being a Freemason.

Some great moments in defenestration

King John of England (1166-1216) killed his nephew, Arthur of Brittany (1187-1203), by defenestration from the castle at Rouen, France, in 1203 (the method contested though not the death).

In 1378, the crafts and their leader Wouter van der Leyden occupied the Leuven city hall and seized the Leuven government.  In an attempt to regain absolute control, they had Wouter van der Leyden assassinated in Brussels. Seeking revenge, the crafts handed over the patrician to a furious crowd. The crowd stormed the city hall and threw the patricians out of the window. At least 15 patricians were killed during this defenestration of Leuven.

In 1383, Bishop Dom Martinho (1485-1547) was defenestrated by the citizens of Lisbon, having been suspected of conspiring with the enemy when Lisbon was besieged by the Castilians.

In 1419 Hussite mob defenestrates a judge, the burgomaster, and some thirteen members of the town council of New Town of Prague. (First defenestration of Prague).

Death of Jezebel (1866) by Gustave Doré (1832–1883).

In the Bible, Jezebel was defenestrated at Jezreel by her own servants at the urging of Jehu. (2 Kings 9:33).  Jezabel is used today to as one of the many ways to heap opprobrium upon women although it now suggests loose virtue, rather than the heresy or doctrinal sloppiness mentioned in the Bible.

Jezebel encouraged the worship of Baal and Asherah, as well as purging the prophets of Yahweh from Israel.  This so damaged the house of Omride that the dynasty fell.  Ever since, the Jews have damned Jezabel as power-hungry, violent and whorish.  However, she was one of the few women of power in the Bible and there is something of a scriptural dislike of powerful women, an influence which seems still to linger among the secular.

In the Book of Revelation (2:20-23), Jezebel's name is linked with false prophets:

20 Nevertheless, I have this against you: You tolerate that woman Jezebel, who calls herself a prophet. By her teaching she misleads my servants into sexual immorality and the eating of food sacrificed to idols.

21 I have given her time to repent of her immorality, but she is unwilling.

22 So I will cast her on a bed of suffering, and I will make those who commit adultery with her suffer intensely, unless they repent of her ways.

23 I will strike her children dead. Then all the churches will know that I am he who searches hearts and minds, and I will repay each of you according to your deeds.

Lorenzo de' Medici (circa 1534) by Giorgio Vasari (1511-1574).

On 26 April 1478, after the failure of the "Pazzi conspiracy" to murder the ruler of Florence, Lorenzo di Piero de' Medici (Lorenzo the Magnificent 1449–1492), Jacopo de' Pazzi (1423-1478) was defenestrated.  In 1483, Prague's Old-Town portreeve and the bodies of seven murdered New-Town aldermen were defenestrated.  (Second defenestration of Prague).  On 16 May 1562, Adham Khan (1531-1652), The Mughal emperor Akbar the Great’s (1542-1605) general and foster brother, was defenestrated (twice!) for murdering a rival general, Ataga Khan (d 1562).  Akbar was woken up in the tumult after the murder. He struck Adham Khan down personally with his fist and immediately ordered his defenestration by royal order. The first time, his legs were broken but he remained alive.  Akbar ordered his defenestration a second time, killing him. Adham Khan had wrongly counted on the influence of his mother and Akbar's wet nurse, Maham Anga (d 1562) to save him as she was almost an unofficial regent in the days of Akbar's youth.  Akbar personally informed Maham Anga of her son's death, to which, famously, she commented, “You have done well”.  After forty days and forty nights, she died of acute depression.  On the morning of 1 December 1640, in Lisbon, a group of supporters of the Duke of Braganza party found Miguel de Vasconcelos (1590-1640), the hated Portuguese Secretary of State of the Habsburg Philip III (1605-1665), hidden in a closet, killed and defenestrated him.  His corpse was left to the public outrage.  On 11 June 1903, a group of Serbian army officers murdered and defenestrated King Alexander (1876-1903) and Queen Draga (1866-1903).

Poster of Benito Mussolini (1883-1946, Duce of Italy, 1922-1943), Ethiopia, 1936.

In 1922, Italian politician and writer Gabriele d'Annunzio (1863-1938) was temporarily crippled after falling from a window, possibly pushed by a follower of Benito Mussolini.  The Duce might almost have been grateful had he suffered the illustrious fate of defenestration, the end of not a few kings and princes.   Instead, Italian communist partisans found him hiding in the back of a truck with his mistress Clara Petacci (1912-1945), attempting to flee to neutral Switzerland.  Taken to a village near Lake Como, on 28 April 1945, both were summarily executed by firing squad, their bodies hung upside down outside a petrol station where the corpses were abused by the mob.  When Hitler saw the photographs, he quickly summoned Otto Günsche (1917–2003), his personal SS adjutant, repeating his instruction that nothing must remain of him after his suicide.

On 10 March 10 1948, the Czechoslovakian minister of foreign affairs Jan Masaryk (1886-1948) was found dead, in his pajamas, in the courtyard of the Foreign Ministry below his bathroom window. The initial (KGB) investigation stated that he committed suicide by jumping out of the window.  A 2004 police investigation concluded that he was defenestrated by the KGB.  In 1968, the son of China's future paramount leader Deng Xiaoping (2004-1997), Deng Pufang (b 1944), was thrown from a window by Red Guards during the Cultural Revolution.  In 1977, as a result of political backlash against his album Zombie, musician Fela Kuti's (1938-1997) mother (Chief Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti, 1900-1978) was thrown from a window during a military raid on his compound.  In addition, the commanding officer defecated on her head, while the soldiers burned down the compound, destroying his musical equipment, studio and master tapes.  Adding insult to injury, they later jailed him for being a subversive.  On 2 March 2007, Russian investigative journalist Ivan Safronov (1956-2007), who was researching the Kremlin's covert arms deals, fell to his death from a fifth floor window.  There was an investigation and the death was ruled to be suicide, a cause of death which of late has become uncommonly common in Russia, people these days often falling from windows high above the ground.

Dominion Centre, Toronto.

On 9 July 1993, in a case of self-defenestration, Toronto attorney Garry Hoy (1955-1993) fell from a window after a playful attempt to prove to a group of new legal interns that the windows of Toronto’s Dominion Centre were unbreakable.  The glass sustained the manufacturer’s claim but, intact, popped out of the frame, the unfortunate lawyer plunging to his death.  Mr Hoy actually also held an engineering degree and is said to have many times performed the amusing stunt.  Unfortunately he didn’t live to explain to the interns how the accumulation of stresses from his many impacts may have contributed to the structural failure.